Mating Rituals
by Jane Doe
Summary: A four part fic about our favorite pair of insects...I mean humans. R/R!
1. Part I

**Mating Rituals**

**By Jane Doe**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI and all research done for this is accessible by the Encyclopedia Smithsonian. Everything else is my imagination. 

**Notes: **O-kay, long time since I'd cruised the fics or written one, but I hope nothing's changed...GSR makes a pretty blue! Well, there are four separate parts in total with this fic. Each part acts independent in content but in theme they all are linked together. This first part is slower than the others, but was needed as a jumping point. Reviews are appreciated. }:^D Thank you! 

**Part I: Locating and Recognizing Mates**

**_Often in populations of insects, males of the species emerge first as adults, and thus are available for mating when the females emerge. However in some species, this does not apply._**

Grissom leaned back into the sturdy comfort of his leather chair removing his glasses with a slow methodical tug. The soft glow of his lamp lit the mound of papers that always seemed to get pushed aside. Their case was granting ample time to finish the menial chores of a supervisor, but the supervisor had no ambition to tackle the burden. It wasn't that long ago that he became supervisor, overseeing many cases at once and directing a team of skilled scientists to solve puzzles. He had reservations about taking this position but they quickly disappeared, unlike memories sharp as ever and the paperwork currently winning the staring contest. 

It was awkward and stuffy, a combination he loathed even in a memory. It was only ten minutes into the mandatory seminar and he was on the brink of boring about sixty Harvard undergraduates and more importantly himself. Corpses had more life than the scattered beings around the auditorium. Perhaps if the small crowd was actually interested in what he had to say, he may not be so miserable. Regardless, he delivered line after line with a professional conviction he took pride in, but that's not to say he wasn't watching the clock for release. Then a raised hand from the middle seat on the eleventh row behind a young man sleeping urged for acknowledgment. At first he dreaded anything the brunette had to say, but the words flowing from her lips would change everything for years to come. 

He finally found an eager mind capable of grasping what he was trying to communicate. He relished in that simple fact without holding back and it alone was enough to start a future. He heard the intelligence in her words as they were carefully placed to extract information or make a point throughout the rest of the seminar. Her quick deductive thought process, a quality that resided in himself, drew him to her. He also discovered that she lacked the normal pleasantries of a young naive scholar. Soon all he could think about was taking her away from the others and discussing what he loved: forensics, evidence, and science. There was an instant spark neither one could deny. 

The spark was there when she formally introduced herself after the room was emptied. It was there when she rattled off past experiments in the field of forensics as if she had been a CSI for years. Tension lacked in their conversation. He did not trip endlessly over words; instead they flew at great speed only to be lobbed back with a curious undertone. What she had to offer was like an enigmatic spell that he could not escape. Of course the sexual attraction was there but solely because introduction of thought was first. When she asked him to join her for coffee at the campus cafe to continue their conversation however, he began to feel overwhelmed by the young woman. He hesitantly declined the offer in a professional manner, but as he would later learn her persuasiveness, obstinacy, and beauty was a force to reckon with. 

They talked for hours upon no end about him mostly. They tried to exchange stories but his knowledge of college life was somewhat as aged as the man. She didn't seem to mind her own lack of input though. Instead she hung on every word with fascination that drew her only deeper into his being, lodging her soul inside a barrier she didn't even know existed. He would have resisted if he had known, but even resistance was a feeble attempt against the magnetism of two lives. 

"Hey Gris?" Sara stood in his office doorway waiting for a reply. 

He pulled his glasses back onto his face blinking away the fuzziness of the floating memory. "Did you get the lab results yet?" 

She allowed a smile to linger. "Yes, Greg found a match in the system. You will never guess the name it kicked out." She moved across the office to lay a piece of paper in his awaiting hands. 

"Have you called Brass?" He asked viewing the printout. 

"I thought you would like to join me." 

A broad grin accompanied the blue shine in his eyes as he rose to his feet. "By all means after you." 

**_Appearing at the same place of interest is another factor when finding mates. Many kinds of insects, including flies, beetles, wasps, bees, and butterflies are known to congregate at locations termed leks. These leks are simply a place to locate mates._**

The Las Vegas Crime Building had become her refuge of sorts. She used to believe San Francisco housed her true self. She lived there her whole life until college. Then she got away to one of the most upscale schools in the country. College was somewhere she could be with those like herself; those with dreams and high expectations of others. She ran to Harvard to belong but she loved San Francisco, which is why she returned. She loved the city, the harbor, the people, the coast, the sunrises, and even the rain and fog. That city was her home. That was until she came to Vegas. Soon the bright lights leaping forth from the desert became home with a sweet melody of winners in every casino on The Strip. 

It was _his_ voice on the other end of the phone, not someone that she promised she would keep in touch with on the holidays. He called and she came. He asked and she stayed. Before long, she became a real member of the team. However, it was more than the work that made it effortless to settle in with her co-workers. She believed it was him. 

He was the man that worked with her everyday in the building she currently wandered. This was more than just a place to work. It was a place that always had his presence to titillate her synapses and physical senses in every sensual way. She came in on her days off in hope of finding him bent over the same piece of evidence that wouldn't allow him to sleep either. She would seek out his guidance, but most times she would meander into his office in need of a familiar connection. She was never lonely at work, because his door was always open even when the man was closed for the day. 

She had to admit that their relationship was not the same once she officially joined the team as his subordinate but she valued it nonetheless for a different quality with the same intentions. She loved her work and she owed it to him on that fateful day when two similar lives crossed and entangled over something of equal interest. He reinforced a passion in her by giving closure to the victim through the voice of the evidence. She was introduced to his true love and fell into it, and later into him. She had no idea he would spawn years of attraction that extended beyond intellect and science. 

"I was looking for you." His voice cut through her reverie quickly causing her to backtrack to the layout room. 

"Did you find what you wanted?" She asked sweetly before bowing her head as if examining her attire. 

"In fact I found much more." 

**_Finding and recognizing mates is usually achieved by chemical attractants in the air called pheromones. Sex-attractant pheromones are specific to the species and quite distinct. An example of this is the male silk moth. By current estimates, it can detect a few hundred pheromone molecules among 25 quintillion molecules, which is an incredible accomplishment._**

"Grissom this isn't right!" She shouted in anger and frustration. 

He lightly took her by her elbow to lead her away. Where, he did not know but it had to be away from the case. As he led the woman out the door towards the parking lot, he stole small glances at her lithe figure. Her breathing was coming in rasps of emotional rage and her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. But what he noticed the most was her scent when he leaned into her to avoid a collision with a young officer. 

She smelled like...Sara. It was a fragrance unique to her in particular. She always had a fresh aroma of lavender shampoo or body wash among the natural components of her body. He didn't know if it was the shampoo or the soap, because the entire smell radiated from her. Her clothing detergent had a tiny distinct contribution to the whole of Sara Sidle. He did not doubt that there were thousands of women with the exact same combination of detergent and lavender, but there was something else adding to the mix that didn't make her apart of the thousands. 

He never vocalized his thoughts with a compliment afraid he might draw attention to himself. People might consider him to be insane. Who in there right mind would notice such exclusive undertones? Who in their right mind would find a natural odor to be tantalizing? Or perhaps what he found worse was the fact that he would be vulnerable by such an admission. Finally, they broke away when the cool night air hit their faces. 

"I don't want to hear it." She said as she began to pace. 

"You can't keep doing this, Sara." 

She stopped and turned to him. "You cannot possibly agree with what just happened. He killed her!" 

"You have to give the evidence time. It never failed us before." He said softly. 

"But it is failing the victim!" She shouted. Her eyes were trained on him expecting, no wanting him to admit that the great legal system was once again failing the victim it was supposed to save. It never came. 

"Sara!" He called to her darkened retreating figure. She indulged him with a pause and slight turn. "Give it time." 

She nodded to keep the tears at bay and left him standing there. Alone. 

**_Sometimes mates are located by sound. An example of this is the male mosquito that locates females for mating by the humming sound made by the female's vibrating wings._**

His shoulder was uncomfortably wedged between the doorway and the open door marked 'Evidence Room 2'. She stood over the victim's clothing dimly lit by the nearest desk lamp. The case file in her hand held her hope as her eyes searched for the one thing they might have missed. She glanced expectantly from the report to the clothing before savagely ransacking another evidence bag. 

Once again his quiet presence was rewarded as a soft song floated to his ears. It was the same song that caused him to search the early empty corridors in the first place. Not to his surprise, she was the source of his curiosity once again. He did not recognize the song, but listened to the weighted lyrics; that became enough. 

_So when the hurting starts  
And when the nightmares begin  
Remember you can fill up the sky  
You don't have to give in  
You don't have to give in_

He cleared his throat and moved into the small room. "I thought you went home for the day. What are you doing here?" 

She threw a gloved hand towards the table. "I thought maybe we missed something." 

"You should go home." He said. 

She nodded but made no gesture to comply. 

"We will get the one responsible, Sara." 

"_He_ is responsible." 

"No, he is responsible for something entirely different." 

"Is it really that different?" She let emotion punctuate her words but remained in control. "He may not have pulled the trigger but he killed her inside." 

"Unfortunately, that isn't against the law until she presses charges." He said sadly. 

"What if that isn't an option? What happens when she cannot stop the blows or the insults? Who speaks for her then? What if it's too late?" 

He opened his mouth but quickly closed it in a release of air. He could not argue with the sad truth that the system he believed in religiously was indeed flawed, but in the same breath he could not admit that his life's work was also flawed. 

"Do you need a ride home?" It was his way of asking if she was going to be okay and to an extent offering his hand to pull her away from the void she accidentally slipped into once again. 

"That's okay. I'll be fine." She said snapping her gloves off and into the trash. 

"Let me walk you out then." When she rolled her eyes at his protective offer he added, "for my sake, not yours." 

She smiled. "If it makes you feel better." 

"Always." He answered closing the door on that part of the day. 


	2. Part II

**Mating Rituals**

**By Jane Doe**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI and all research done for this is accessible by the Encyclopedia Smithsonian. Everything else is my imagination. 

**Notes: **Aspromised this is the next installment, though I'm sorry that it's late. It's been hectic in my part of the world. I would like to thank those that reviewed and please keep them coming. Any grammatikal mistakes can be directed at my beta, whose body will be used as a shield to ward off flames. Part III will be up a little quicker I promise. }:^D****

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**Part II: Courtship Ritual**

**__**

**_Specific rituals have developed through evolution and _must_ be precise routines. Sudden alternations or disruptions in courtship will almost certainly lead to a missed opportunity for reproduction._**

The weatherman was wrong of course. The "light" showers were really a monsoon and came a day earlier than anticipated. Under normal circumstances, Sara found a rainy day relaxing. While working a scene though, she grew more and more unnerved as she watched the evidence become part of the sewage system. In fact, returning from a wet crime scene always diminished her spirits for the rest of shift and sometimes throughout the entire case. It's hard to believe the weather could have such a great effect on her mood. She couldn't deny it though. Rainy weather made her feel as muddy as the puddles. 

She sighed loudly as she hung her dripping raincoat in her locker. She also knew the rain wasn't entirely to blame for her lack of cheeriness. The passed few months were not noted for their good days. 

The drops of water dinged on the aluminum bottom as if agreeing with her. 

Recently just getting through the day was a trying task. She loved her work, and she loved the effects of good work. The passion was still there. That didn't seem to be the problem. It was everything else. Her _life_ felt off balance. She began to think, only in safe seclusion, that she could be venturing towards depression. Nothing serious or problematic, she always assured herself, but a resilience casting a shadow on her mood. If described, it would be an edge of fuzziness that wouldn't go away. Her head felt like a movie reel constantly in a loop of pessimistic thoughts. 

"Stop." 

She said it aloud to enforce it. No time or need for such musings. She squared her shoulders and checked her light application of makeup in the mirror. She wasn't concerned about how nice she looked, but how horrible. The mirror never lies. The dark clips seemed almost eerie in the poor lighting, and would be worse in the florescent light of the lab. She quickly made a touchup before abandoning the effort and heading out the door. In the lounge, the coffee she perked prior to hanging her coat would be ready with a steamy goodness that could always make her feel a _little_ better. 

He was standing with his back to her when she walked in. She stopped. She would rather come back at another time than take a coffee break being ignored by the one person she wanted to notice her. The special coffee would have to wait until she could fully enjoy it. Sara started to retreat when he spoke aloud holding her attention for only an instant but long enough to pull her in. 

"Thanks Greg." Grissom said aloud tipping the steaming white cup to his mouth, and still completely unaware of the person behind him. 

"No, that's my coffee." She said folding her arms across her chest. 

He gulped the hot coffee. "Ouch!" 

His bark quickened her pulse. She hadn't intentionally meant to scare him, but at least it was a reaction. Instinctively she winced as he dabbed at his burning tongue and lips with a paper napkin. The now set aside coffee still had a string of thick steam bellowing up. 

"You okay?" Her voice cracked. 

"Fine." He grumbled turning to face her. "Do you need something?" 

She hid her eyes from him by looking around as if for a sign that she was in distress, or "in need". She found no such indications. "No." 

He stared at her. She was greatly dressed down he noticed. Her formal slacks and fashionable blouse were replaced with a simple pair of faded Levi jeans and a black V-neck fleece sweater. The only thing that seemed to break his mind away from the dark circles under her eyes was the modest white shirt poking forth beneath the sweater. And was her hair damp? 

"How's your case coming along?" He finally asked as the thoughts trailed on. 

She shrugged. "The rain water-logged a lot of the collections. We'll see." 

He made an 'O' with his mouth. Of course, she was out in the rain, that's why her hair is slightly wet. He picked up his coffee and began to sit down at the table. "I never liked the rain when working a case." He said nonchalantly. 

Despite the evident tension, a small smile crept onto her face when his words mirrored her thoughts in the locker room. "Yeah." 

His brow furrowed. What had he missed? She smiled but he didn't say anything funny. Rain at a crime scene always ruined the evidence, so for that reason he never liked the rain. He felt cheated when it rained on _his_ crime scene. If he didn't get a good start, everything that would follow could be dismissed in court. Why would she smile? Is he so out of touch with everyone lately that his opinion is amusing or absurd? Had his hearing gone out and he missed a witty response? He wasn't watching her lips as closely as he should. But his hearing was fine, everything else was wrong. 

Generally, he might have asked what was so entertaining but things have been stressed for some time between them. Even _he_ couldn't ignore that. He had handled Sara like he did budget warnings from the mayor --through evasion. He talked himself into believing this was the best thing to do under the circumstances or when things became awkward. 

Without another word, he began to flip through a newspaper someone had left behind. 

She stood in a complete confused stupor. He ended the conversation by reading as if she were invisible. However, she accepted his attitude toward her with only quiet anger because anything else would require more energy that she simply didn't have today. Finally, she decided she would need that cup of coffee. The sweet rich aroma began to relax her as she poured the semi-dark liquid into a clean cup. It wasn't Greg's Blue Hawaiian, or the most expensive, but certainly worth its weight in gold to her. 

He watched her over his glasses while her back was turned, and then looked down at his coffee. It definitely wasn't Greg's coffee, but very original in taste. "This is your blend?" 

His words surprised her. She turned slowly, as if unsure. "It's not a blend, but yes it's my coffee." 

He ran he tongue across his lips. "It tastes...different." 

She frowned. "You don't have to drink it." 

"I meant it in a good way." He abandoned his paper by folding it in half. "I simply meant that it is something I haven't tried. It's almost sweet and..." 

"That's probably the low acidity with berry flavoring." She interrupted but unenthusiastically. "It's Costa Rican 'La Amistad'. It's organic." 

Suddenly he was interested despite his evasive instinct. "Isn't all coffee organic?" 

"It's just a term...you don't know the difference?" 

"No." He answered neutrally. 

"It's called organic because of the way it's grown and manufactured." She began. "Certified organic coffee is usually grown in the shade of banana or mango trees, which replace the depleted nitrogen in the soil and offer a habitat for wildlife that eat insects that could damage the crop. The farmers use no herbicides or pesticides, only natural advantages; all of which is strictly supervised. Organic coffee farmers help promote the wildlife preserve. La Amistad specifically is now privately protected and responsible for saving possible endemic species that were on the verge of extinction." She drew an intake of air. I feel like a damn encyclopedia, and I am falling for one of your games, she thought. 

Impressed, Grissom's eyebrow went up. "By drinking this coffee, we are saving the planet." 

Despite the flashing 'Warning' sign at the back of her mind, she found herself slightly smiling at his childlike simplification. Her smile had an effortless undertone, but only after layers of complexities was peeled away. Grissom didn't see it enough so he returned the gesture. 

In that instant Sara almost felt like her old-self again -- when it was comfortable and enjoyable to banter back and forth with Grissom, or when a smile or touch was commonplace. 

Then somewhere deep within her she backed away. She was setting herself up again. As that particular thought crossed her mind, a slither of fear wedged itself in her chest. She was actually afraid to set herself up for something she couldn't handle right now. For the first time, she wanted to keep him away. She wanted to push him away before he could get close enough to cause any further pain. 

She didn't like the feeling, but she didn't know what she could do about it, if anything _should_ be done at all. 

He felt the subtle change as he met her eyes. She broke the contact prematurely before he could get an understanding so he looked away as well. Becoming uncertain of what was happening, he decided he should leave. "Well I better get back to work." He managed to say with as little awkwardness as possible. 

"Yeah, me too." She agreed. 

She watched him leave. She did not object or call him back like she thought she might. She simply stood alone, feeling empty and strangely defeated. It wasn't a bold feeling-- she felt this way but didn't realize what it meant. Part of her, the part that needed him, didn't want to know what it meant. The other part still tottered on the edge of indecision. 

**_These routines of courtship are very uniquely characteristic of the species. Dance patterns or short flights are often the most common courtship rituals. Unlike in humans, it's okay to dance circles around your date._**

****He sat in marvel by the basic fact. It was so simple, like the tiny smile of acknowledgment. Sara hated the rain too, and for the same reasons, which is why she smiled. Grissom leaned back in his chair and frowned. How could he forget? 

Shift was over but his unexpected meeting with Sara wouldn't let him go home. One of the things that bothered him most: he knew she didn't like the rain. She told him in a small conversation maybe the first year she worked there. He knew it and yet he sent her out in the pouring rain on a solo case. He could have given Nick the solo and have Sara in the dry hotel with him. Nick wouldn't have minded the rain. He might have seen it as a personal challenge or a large step in gaining the approval of his supervisor. But Grissom sent Sara into the rainstorm, because he was too cowardly to work with her. Of course he didn't know it was going to rain, but he still felt partly responsible for sending her away. He was responsible for sending her away. 

He sighed. 

"That was quite a loud sigh." 

For the second time that day he was startled. His head shot up in an instant connecting with the figure in his doorway. 

"Well out with it. What's the sigh for? Rough case?" Catherine plopped down lazily in the chair in front of his desk. 

"No." He shook his head but remained disconnected from her presence. His thoughts were elsewhere. 

There was a long quiet pause. The clock made conversation with time. 

She finally broke the silence with an upbeat demeanor that clashed with the office's atmosphere. "My case is as rough as it gets, since you asked. As you know eye witnesses are useless and our suspect's lawyer is out to dismiss all of the evidence because of some bogus Civil Right's loophole I've never heard about. Not to mention..." She trailed off. He wasn't listening. "It's nice to know you care enough to lend a friendly ear at the end of the day." 

Another long pause. 

She switched up. "Saw you with Sara today." 

He blinked quickly back to the present, while Catherine suppressed a grin. She didn't know how he would take the teasing nowadays, so usually denied herself the fun. Something was very different about the man opposite of her. They were old friends and reasonably close, but if asked today whether he thought of her the same way she would be reluctant to agree. They lost the familiar connection she was confident she had. If it wasn't lost, it was buried beneath some inner turmoil for the time being. 

"So anyway, how was her case?" She asked remaining professional. 

His hands bridged in front of him. "Clinging to the bottoms of her shoes." 

"Ah the rainstorm. You know she really hates the rain." 

He nodded absently. He knows. He knew. He knew he screwed up, and maybe for the last time. Given time back he didn't trust himself to change the way things were turning out. He would repeat the same mistakes and push her away, push the team away, and draw his secret tighter. He sacrificed so much, yet had gained nothing but loneliness. 

Catherine watched his eyes become more distant. "You okay?" 

_No_. "Yeah, just...I'm fine. I'll take a look at your case and see if I can help." 

"Thanks." She said, but she didn't care about the case anymore. "Are you going home?" 

"Not yet." 

She bit her lip. "Do you wanna get a drink? Maybe some food? The cases can wait 'till next shift." 

"No thanks." He deserved the isolation. He fortified these walls, he would live behind them. "Maybe some other time." 

"You know what Grissom?" She raised her voice in distasteful anger as she took in his pitiful sight but words refuse to come out. She hadn't the right to tell him to fix things with Sara. She knew that he was fully aware what needed to be done before it was too late. She also knew he was hurting Sara by giving her false hopes. So who would I be helping, she asked herself. This had to be resolved by them, not some out of practice divorced matchmaker. 

"What?" 

"Nothing. Never mind." She rose from her seated position. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some rest, okay?" 

If he was confused by her attitude, he didn't show it. "I will. Goodnight." 

She swung her purse over her shoulder. "Goodnight Gil." 

When he was alone again, his gaze dropped to his desk where it got lost in the white glow of his case files. 

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_"Poor communication is as disquieting as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after."_

_"Coffee is best sweetened by good company."_


	3. Part III

**Mating Rituals**

**By Jane Doe**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI and all research done for this is accessible by the Encyclopedia Smithsonian. Everything else is my imagination. 

**Notes: **One of my all time favorite G/S moments was one I didn't see coming. The demeanor Grissom possessed by the hockey rink is still a pleasure even though I've seen it several times. I used that similar abruptness and shock in this piece. I think it serves it well. 

Unlike the other installments, this one proved the most difficult. It was the first part of 'Mating Rituals' that I wrote down, hence giving me direction for the others. 

Well, please read and review if you have the time. Thanks and like always, enjoy.****

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**Part III: Mating**

**_Internal fertilization by insertion of the male intromittent organ into the female genital tract for deposition of sperm is the usual method of copulation. There are exceptions, of course, and the most dramatic is perhaps the bedbug, where males actually pierce the body cavity of the female with their penis to deposit sperm. Springtails (Order Collembola) are exceptional also in that the male produces spermatophores and places them in a circle around the female. The male then performs a courtship dance, encouraging the female to cross the circle._**

Sara pushed into the drafty garage of CSI headquarters in search of him. The garage was lit by several high wattage bulbs allowing maximum lighting everywhere but the gray shadows in the corners and around cars brought in for criminal inspection. 

"I got your page. It seemed urgent." She stopped when she realized Grissom was nowhere in sight. A bit angrily she called his name. "Grissom? Where are you?" 

Her voice finally reached him as he straightened a blue mat over the concrete floor. "I'm over here, behind the red SUV." 

She stood on her tiptoes searching for his familiar figure at the far end of the garage. "I can't see you." 

"Right here." He said as he rose from his crouched position. 

"What are you doing?" She asked approaching him. Instead of a logical answer, she got more confusion when the sparring mat from storage came into view. 

His eyes lit up like they always did when a case was reaching it's climax. "DB found in the desert." 

Her delicate brow furrowed. "Is that the Reyes case you and Nick are working on?" 

He nodded. "Yeah, dead female, freezing temperatures, found by a passerby, not much evidence due to exposure." 

"Yeah it has been really cold this year. Any suspects?" She prodded. 

"We got a lead on the sister, but that turned cold because she had a solid alibi. We investigated the ex-boyfriend but again didn't find anything suspicious. Every turn we made led us back to the start." 

"But..." 

"Well, I may have found something that won't have us chasing our tails anymore. Where was the last place Tracy Reyes was seen alive?" 

"Didn't you say it was at a laundry mat?" She offered folding her arms across her chest. 

"Yes I did." He smiled. "I had a look at the witnesses confirming Reyes's arrival and departure from the laundry mat." 

"And one caught your eye." 

"His name is Carl Allens. He had a run in with the law for following a woman to her apartment yesterday. If he had tendencies such as that, I thought maybe we were looking in the wrong place." 

"A spontaneous attack? Not very standard." She thought aloud. 

He shrugged. "This wouldn't be the first time our suspects weren't standard." 

"Yeah." She said looking around. "So what are _we_ doing in here?" 

"Two reasons. That's his car." 

Sara's eyes followed his finger to the red SUV behind her. "How did you get a warrant on so little?" 

He ignored the question. "I already examined the car and not to my surprise it has been recently cleaned." 

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "They think they are so smart." 

"But we are smarter." He opened the file pulling forth the pictures of the initial crime scene. "These erratic drag marks in the dirt suggested struggle, so Tracy Reyes was still alive and strong to fight her captor, which is the second reason we are in here. We need the extra space." 

She felt his eyes land on her expectantly as silence sank through the concrete walls. "Oh no. Come on Grissom that's why they have computer simulations." 

"I agree but the parameters are not the same." 

"You can enter in the parameters." 

"You cannot enter in personality, Sara. Tracy Reyes was taking self defense classes and had a black belt in Karate. A computer cannot understand her willingness to comply with a stranger. I need to give this a personality so we know where to look for clues." 

"Technically this isn't my case." 

He sighed in disappointment. "We work as a team. Besides, no matter how much I need Nick to be a woman right now it just couldn't happen." 

"My lunch..." She started to whine about missing lunch for the third time that week but it all ended with a loud sigh. "I guess I'm Tracy." 

"I'll be Carl Allens." He stated. "Okay we know she was drugged with a chloroform rag and more than likely the killer, Allens, put her in the back seat of his SUV." He stepped around her and opened the car door. "Get in. I'm going to take you for an imaginary ride." 

She flashed an irritated thousand watt smile as she got into the back seat. "I hope I'm getting a promotion for this." 

"Sorry, but I have to see your acting credentials first." 

Her eyes became narrow slits resembling that of a lioness ready to make a kill. "Let's just get this finished before my food gets cold." 

He stared at her for a moment lost in thought. "Something isn't right." 

"There is no way I am letting you drug me." 

"No." He frowned. "I don't understand why I would dump the body so soon. Something had to have gone wrong. What would make me stop the car?" 

"There could be several reasons. He got scared. He wanted to rape her. Or maybe Tracy woke up and attacked him while he was driving. Whatever the reason, the car was stopped and there was a struggle." 

The images formed in his head as she effortlessly removed the mental block. "Okay, you run and..." Sara scooted out of the car and slowly began to walk away when his hand grabbed her arm. "I go after you." 

The words froze her in place. Grissom, on the other hand, carried on without noticing what was said. 

"I need you to lay down on the mat." He said releasing her and taking an open file in his hands. 

"Excuse me?" 

"The patterns in the dirt found thirteen feet from the body are pointing to a fight on the ground, not standing up." 

She frowned. "Why didn't you find any trace of Allens in the dirt collection?" 

"Thanks to the great Las Vegas Police Department, all collections were ruined. Just another reason this case is becoming a headache." He spat the words with disgrace and annoyance. "Just don't ask and lay down." 

"But...but..." Taking part in Grissom's experiments were fun as long as you weren't part _of_ the experiment. 

"Please lay down?" 

This could be a huge step towards building trust again. Or a big mistake, she thought bitterly. "Okay." She eased onto her back with her hands clasped across her stomach. 

He removed his glasses setting them on the side table. "Well we are fighting, so I guess that puts me on the ground with you." 

"Huh?" She sat upright as he began to kneel next to her. "You cannot be serious. Are you?" 

"Why would I _not_ be serious?" He frowned at her. "Just hit me, Sara." 

"What? Grissom..." She felt the uneasiness become a thick knot in her stomach. 

Had he finally lost all perception of human behavior and temptation outside of science? She wasn't sure this was a good idea. Wounds don't heal as easily as in the movies. What was left of their friendship needed grave repair. Instead the only treatment it received was time and caution. Their relationship was not the same, indeed nothing could be the same, but some familiar contact was being made when they weren't busy pushing each other away. 

"Hit me. Fight me like you were in danger." He instructed, eagerly lost in the comfort of the simulation. 

She gaped at him. "I'm not attacking you. No." 

He knew the only way to sway her decision. "It's for the victim. You know as well as I do that sometimes putting a new perspective on things can lead to a breakthrough." 

She considered his words carefully and somewhat scornfully because he knew her so well, and muttered a sharp, "Fine" in compliance. 

"Okay really come at me." 

She waited with unease. _How... ?_

__"Sometime today, Sara." He chirped breaking through her thoughts. 

After a small disciplinary discussion of self-control, she launched her body forcefully knocking him onto his back. Using her hips and hands she pinned his body with ease to the floor mat before he could plan any defense; a move she learned from her self-defense classes. Then she saw the look on his face. "Did I hurt you?" 

"No." He coughed out. "Um...I think I've got a clear picture now. You can get up." He said ignoring the warmth of her body smashed against him. Be professional, he told himself. _What the hell were you thinking when you thought this was a great idea?!_

__"Wait. You made me act like your puppet, so you play your own game for a change. If you want me off, you push me off. You should be good at that." 

She said it absently but it was said nonetheless and she knew it hurt him. Unable to look Grissom in the face, she closed her eyes with remorse. 

"This isn't a game." He retorted with a tinge of pain. 

Her eyes flew open and all ill regret left. "I wish someone would have let me know a little sooner." 

He blushed with anger but remained silent. As often as they grew closer, they were as equally thrown apart. This pattern was not new. In fact it was exhausted. 

"I'm leaving." She fumed throwing poisoned daggers with her eyes. 

As she began to back off, he easily rolled reversing the positions and pinning her to the mat. In the quick instant for this to occur, he lost all knowledge of the outside world, and the consequences of a physical engagement during work hours. Sara, on the other hand, just stared up at his bitter face in total shock trying to catch her breath. He was stronger than he looked, or rather he was stronger than she expected him to be with her. She grew more irritated with him. 

Another game. 

Keeping an evil trained eye to distract him, she managed to shift her weight to displace his strength. It created a weak spot allowing her to roll him again using her leg and back muscles. 

His back hit the padding below with a thwack radiating a stinging pain up and down his body. Still his conscious mind told him to end it, but he was too exasperated by the muscular woman sitting on top of him. He pulled the same move on her with great ease as his strong muscles overcame her once again. This time he applied more pressure to her forearms keeping her in place when she tried to get away. 

"Jerk." 

"Pardon me?" He asked trying to slow his breathing. 

"Nothing." She mumbled settling herself against his firm hold. "Are we done yet?" 

He scanned her face before his eyes rested on his hands keeping her pinned to the floor. He smiled. "Where are my hands?" 

"Huh?" 

He cleared his throat. "Where are my hands?" 

"You know where, Sherlock." She said with distaste. 

"Just answer the question, Sara." He spat back. 

"On my forearms." 

"Which side of your forearms?" 

"The underside." Her voice suddenly lost it's sharp edge. "Was the victim lying face up or face down?" 

"Face down as if she were trying to crawl away." 

"Her forearms. Freezing temperatures. Possible preserved prints." She whispered realizing where all of him currently sat. 

He observed her closely completely lost in her eyes. "I think I've got all the data I need." 

She thrust her head upwards and captured his lips without thinking, yet with perfect knowledge of the leap she was taking. His hands immediately unpinned her arms only to slam back to the mat in surprise as her tongue danced across his lips begging for entry. His open eyes grew wide before losing the battle of the moment and falling shut. 

He cautiously dipped his tongue in her mouth before he could stop himself. The action pushed her to solidly connect with the blue mat giving her strength to push against his desire with her own. He thought she tasted like peppermint that mingled wildly with the coffee taste of his own mouth. His hand held her exposed waist while the other caressed her face with familiarity as if he had been kissing her for years. Her own hands were winding through his hair before running the length of his hypersensitive back. 

Nothing existed but them and an endless need as slippery tongues clashed, noses bumped, and teeth were barely avoided. 

Everything changed in just a matter of seconds. 

"Gris are you in here?! Grissom?!" Nick stood in the farthest entryway to the garage looking for his boss. "Where the hell is he?" He mumbled to himself. 

Four eyes shot open, tingling lips parted in panic, and two bodies froze with fear. 

"Hey Grissom?!" Nick called again as he began to walk the length towards the red SUV. Before he could take another step his cell phone rang. "Stokes. I can't find him. Oh real nice. No. Okay I'll page him. Yeah." Turning on his heels he began to page Grissom. 

Still only inches apart and hidden from view Sara ran her hand up to Grissom's belt just in time to silence the page. A few seconds later the door closed and the garage grew quiet except for two thumping hearts and a whirlwind of contained thoughts. Their eyes remained transfixed for only a fraction of time before they parted to safe standing positions. 

Both of them were pink faced and breathing harder than normal. 

She glanced at him reading his posture and felt ashamed of herself. The words came out in a meaningless tepid onslaught. "Grissom I am so sorry I don't know what I was thinking it was inappropriate and I am so sorry I put you in that kind of position it's just...I'm so sorry." 

"No I'm sorry." He rushed to interrupt or explain. "Things got out of hand. It was a mistake." 

She winced. Mistake? How could anger become a stubborn want to show him what it was like to kiss her and then become mutual desire, which was now a mistake? Was that possible? 

She swallowed hard to pass the lodged lump in her throat. 

His gaze to her lips as she swallowed, suddenly wanting to feel them pressed against his skin. He shook the thought away. "Someone could have seen us. There are three doors into this room and not one of them is locked. I'm sorry. It was unprofessional of me. It won't happen again." He said solidly. 

The silence pressed in on Sara's heart waiting to burst with pain. Grissom opened his mouth to apologize one more time for having feelings other than professionalism, but he decided otherwise and dropped his eyes to the floor. It could do no good. 

It was a mistake, he kept telling himself. One kiss changes everything, and he knew it. He couldn't be ready for the direction this would take. He wasn't ready at all. How could he let this happen? This moment, this kiss (that sparked something dead inside of him, which he was too frightened to find out what it might become), this feeling, how could he allow this to happen? 

_Gil, look at her. _Grissom raised his head to Sara as the voice instructed._ You officially lost her over some bullshit idea that it wouldn't work, it can't work, or it shouldn't work. Maybe all three. Maybe it's true and you are as terrified as you taught yourself to be. Tell yourself whatever you like, but you know it wasn't a mistake. You've always felt what you thought was right and disregarded the rest. But not anymore. It wasn't a mistake. No, it wasn't possibly a mistake._

__"I better go." She whispered as she eyed the glowing exit sign. She never felt so unwanted and hurt. 

He shook away the thoughts. "Um yes, I think we have everything we need for now. Don't you?" 

Hot burning tears blurred the door just beyond him, but she refused to cry. Not now. She straightened her shoulders. Walk away girl, she coached herself. Just walk away. For good. His reaction was proof nothing would ever happen between them. Just walk away for good. It's over. 

_Are you ready to do that? You apologized for your feelings, but you should never be ashamed of loving someone. And yes, you do love him. You can't stop it anymore than you can stop the rain or the sun setting on another day. It hurts, but it wasn't a mistake. Kissing him wasn't a mistake but walking away can be._

__"No." She said quite forcefully. 

"What?" The word confused and startled him. 

"No Grissom, _I_ do not have everything I need. You owe me more." Suddenly the sad hurt became vexation. "You owe me something because I can't do _this_ anymore." 

He felt as if his knees were cut out from under him. He chest felt heavy, almost ready to give under the pressure. What happened to his control? How did this happen again? 

He could play dumb, but he knew she was tired of the game-- the "this". He groped for words. "I'm sorry." 

"Try again." 

"Look this isn't the time nor place, Sara." It was assertive enough to end it right then, but it didn't. 

"When?!" She cried with a shaky voice. "No, I need more right now or never." 

There have been times in which Gil Grissom didn't know how to proceed, and in those times he remained silent and reflective. Most recently he went through surgery to avoid the silence. He could have lost one of his five senses and with it her voice, her laughter and yet he, standing in front of her, remained in a cold chosen silence. He didn't know what to do. 

"Say something! Anything!" It rang loudly making him jump slightly. 

"I don't know what to do." He said obediently. "I can't..." He groped for the words. "Solve the puzzle?" 

She stared at him bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about? What puzzle? I'm not talking about the case, Grissom. I'm talking about the k-" 

"I know the topic of conversation." He quickly spat. "Sara, I...don't know why..." He trailed off. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate the sharp pains forming the fuzzy outline of her pain when she felt his hand take hers. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Stop." She begged wanting the strength to push him away as the first tear slid down her face. "Just stop." 

"I just can't." It came out laden in anguish as he stepped closer. 

Her breath caught in her chest when his lips found hers. He had no idea what he was doing or where it would take him. He needed to kiss her. He needed to kiss her not for an cosmic understanding of love, or of sudden enlightenment that he always needed her, but because he loved her. It was a long chaste kiss, involving no crude lust as before, but as much raw emotion as anyone could bear. 

"I can't." He repeated when the kiss ended. 

The pause seemed endless. 

"I can't stop needing you." He said shakily. 

She rested her head upon his shoulder. When his arms pulled her tightly against his warm chest, she could close her eyes. 


	4. Part IV

**Mating Rituals**

**By Jane Doe**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI and all research done for this is accessible by the Encyclopedia Smithsonian. Everything else is my imagination. Blah, blah, blah. 

**Notes:** The final part...Horray! I again apologize for the tardiness. Time slipped away from me for quite awhile. 'Mutual Feelings' is next to be updated so please hang in there. Anyway, thank you for the reviews and please let me know what you think of the grand finale. 

****

**Part IV: Post-Mating Behavior**

**_After mating, there is danger for some males. For example, praying mantis females sometimes eat their mates, starting with the head. Oddly enough the male mantis continues mating even though his head is gone!_**

"Grissom, you are being such an ass!" She spat the words over her shoulder as she jumped out of the Tahoe. 

He threw the emergency brake in place and angrily stepped out of the car. "There is no reason for your behavior, Sara! Now get in the car!" 

"No!" She marched off into the desert morning angrily kicking small pebbles with her foot. "I'll walk home." 

"Like hell you're walking home." He slammed the door to the Tahoe. "Get in the car." 

She didn't answer. He hated the silence more than the yelling. She knew it and used her knowledge well. He found that loving Sara was the easiest thing he allowed himself to do. Once she pried herself into his life completely, he realized that nothing so right could ever be a mistake. On the other hand, fighting with her required every ounce of energy he possessed and was anything but simple. 

"You are acting like such a child!" He yelled. 

"Me?!" She huffed spinning to face him. "You had no right to treat me like that! It was disrespectful!" 

"If you weren't being so...so bullheaded, like usual, you might understand why I was trying to get through to you. It was a bad call! And believe me Warrick is going to hear about this too!" 

"I acted on my own will! Warrick had nothing to do with what happened!" 

"He wasn't there to keep that bastard from touching you, was he?!" His voice cracked into a hoarse shout. "For Christ's sake Sara, take a look at your wrists!" 

He tried to blink away the image of the greasy bum that had Sara shoved against the interrogation room wall with her hands helplessly pinned to her sides. That creep's body near hers, touching her. Thank God he got there in time to stop a _possible_ powerful fist connecting with her face. He didn't even want to envision her with a battered face. 

Standing there in the morning light, Sara resisted the urge to view the damage done to her wrists. She hadn't felt the pain. She was just too distracted because her plan worked to notice the bruising. That was the point and really all that mattered. It had worked. She didn't feel immediate danger and thought nothing of her predicament until Grissom barged through the door. 

His face was one of emotional fear and pure hatred. His strong hands pulled the suspect away from her to send him cascading into the table with a loud screech. "Stay away from her." 

Grissom positioned himself between Sara and the suspect expecting retaliation. Although she couldn't see Grissom's face, she knew he was more than a little upset and no one could defend themselves from that. In fact, she had never seen him so outwardly angry in all the years she had known him. And for some reason that scared her. She wasn't afraid of Grissom. He would never purposefully hurt her in any way. She was terrified Grissom could get hurt trying to gain the control she lost or lose further control. 

In the instant these thoughts and more ran through her head it was over. Brass and Warrick, whom she shouldn't have tricked into leaving her alone, charged through the door with their guns drawn. Brass read the suspect his rights and led him away. And for a very long time. 

"It was enough to hold him until we got the warrant. You and I both know that he would have destroyed the evidence given the opportunity. He was probably on his way home to get rid of it." She said finally trying to hold her ground, but her voice was weak. 

"Do you realize if his lawyer even suspected that you bated his suspect, the case would be dismissed? Not to mention you could too!" 

"It won't happen!" She yelled back feeling the agitation rise again in her stomach. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were capable of seeing the future! Maybe I should borrow that crystal ball of yours some time." 

She opened her mouth but snapped it shut only to narrow her eyes in his direction. It grew unbearably silent between the two. Seconds, or perhaps minutes, passed without a word spoken aloud. 

"You still had no right to belittle me like that." She whispered finally then looked away. "The whole lab was watching us." 

"I don't give a gnat's ass what the lab saw or thinks." He said grabbing his throbbing temples. "When I see someone hurting you, I will do everything in my power to stop it." 

She faced him again. "That isn't the point and you know it. You took me to the car like I was an irresponsible child! And yelling at me was uncalled for. Just because we are intimate doesn't mean you have the right to treat me like..." She lost her train of thought. "I knew what I was doing!" 

His breathing again came in quick rasps. "It _was_ irresponsible! Dammit Sara when are you going to learn that some case isn't worth getting hurt over?!" 

"I guess I am too irresponsible." 

He paused to catch his breath before continuing slowly. "I am not sorry for pulling you out of there. No _CSI_ should do what you did today for reasons of ethics and more importantly safety. Now please get in the car." 

She rolled her eyes considering his words in some form of an apology. She inhaled deeply and without a word she stalked by his distraught figure towards the Tahoe. The loud slam of the door died away in the rising heat but confirmed her presence in the passenger seat. He squinted against the sunlight for relief, but only caused more pain behind his eyes. He ran a tired hand through his hair before walking to the car and driving home. 

------------------- 

"How are your wrists?" He asked at a careful distance by the doorway. 

She looked up from her novel for only a second before dropping her brown eyes back to the page. "They are fine." 

He cautiously entered the room still uncertain if it was safe. "Do you need an ice pack? Or some aspirin?" 

"No thanks." She whispered pretending to be deeply involved in her book. 

He frowned and decided he wasn't going to get through to her fifteen feet away. He approached their bedside and sat by her legs. "Let me see them." 

She had no intention to give in so he pulled the book from her hands. 

"You lost my page." She said staring at the closed book. He gingerly brushed the fallen lock of hair away from her face, memorizing the silkiness as it lay between his fingers. 

"You know exactly what page you were on." He said knowingly with a skeptical eyebrow. He turned his attention to her lithe wrists laying on her lap. She winced slightly when he ran his finger along the rim of a lightly colored bruise on the left side of her lower wrist. It wasn't as bad as it could have been or as bad as he made it out to be, but there nonetheless. "I thought you said they were fine." 

"That was before you touched me." She said dryly. He lowered his lips until they met the tender skin of her wrists. She sighed and removed them from his seduction. "I'm still mad at you." 

"I'm not happy with you either sweetheart." He ran his hand along the length of her outer thigh. "I think we can we agree to disagree." 

"No." She said seriously but she smiled as his hands danced on her thigh effectively tickling her. "Stop. That tickles and isn't fair." 

He climbed over her stretched out legs to his side of the bed to flop down. "We would have gotten him some way. We always do." 

She huffed with annoyance. "Not always." 

"We may not get them at first but eventually they make a mistake and we get them." 

"At the expense of another victim?" 

He lowered his eyes from her probing ones. "What are you reading?" 

"You changed the subject." 

"You are the most stubborn person I know. And it isn't a compliment." He replied with a half smile. 

She slapped his arm. He avoided a second blow by pulling her into his arm. Once her head was settled on his chest a playful smile curled her lips as his hand wandered under her shirt to massage her back. Her eyes drifted shut enjoying the feel of his warm strong hand kneading her skin. 

"I should suspend you." He whispered. 

She rolled away from him causing his hand to slide away. "You won't because the couch isn't that comfortable." 

"Is that a threat?" He teased as he began to sneak a hand across her exposed thigh again. 

"Yes it is and I suggest you don't forget it." Her smile was wide but grew expectantly larger. "What are you doing?" 

"Stroking my beetle." 

"Huh?" She laughed. "What the hell are you...?" 

"Never mind." He grinned as his hand danced across her skin. 

"Whatever you _think_ you are doing, you need to stop. Quit tickling me!" She tried to sound threatening but a giggle ultimately broke through. He disguised his smile with a pout as she removed his hand. "Come here you." 

He slowly met her pursed lips lightly kissing her, but quickly broke away. "I know you know you shouldn't have bated the suspect and I'm not sorry for pulling you out, but my actions..." 

"Could be considered as overboard." She finished. 

"Yes, but you also crossed a line." 

"Enough talk, okay? Are you coming to bed?" She said softly while admiring her hand rubbing his cheek. 

"Why?" He said watching her sit up. "It's still early." 

"I just asked if you were coming to bed." She grinned wildly over her shoulder at him. "But I didn't say we would be sleeping." 

She extinguished the side lamp with a solid tug on the chain. 

**_After mating the pair will separate. In Class Insecta, it is not uncommon for mates to leave each other and never meet again. Widespread fertilization is one of the reasons for such dramatic radiation of the species. However in higher classes of organisms choosing a mate for life is almost a ritual itself._**

Six weeks had passed since their argument and makeup. As he stood watching her, he was reminded why he was so upset that day. The thought of losing her still provoked a pang in his chest, even if she just was across the room as she was now. 

He closed the distance to her sleeping form. She was spread out across their bed adorned only in his shirt leaving her lavender fragrance on his manly clothing. When he finally reached her, he stood protectively shading the slits of morning sun from her eyes. She noticed the change in light behind her closed eyelids and rolled to her side of the bed sweeping a long welcoming leg across the mattress. 

He removed his work clothes before climbing in, but did not move to take her in his arms. His pillow, still warm from her, shaped against his head as he took in the sight beside him. Patiently he waited for his eyes to adjust to her shapely outline to update everything in fine detail. 

~~~~~ A search party consisting of Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and even Greg found Sara and Grissom leaning against the red SUV in the garage after their first kiss. The team made several jokes about putting a homing beacon on their boss before they realized the changes in both of them. In fact if they had entered through any of the other doors Grissom had indicated, they would have seen that Grissom had a firm hold on Sara's hand before he had time to release it. But they didn't and were left guessing as Sara and Grissom remained silent and resistant to the group's intrusion. 

The shift ended shortly afterwards without any glances, touches, or words existing between them. Everyone went home to enjoy what was becoming a beautiful day. Well, everyone except Grissom. He wandered aimlessly around the city until he found himself at her apartment doorstep running on pure desire. He knocked and held his breath unsure and fearful of the consequences. She opened the door slightly surprised, but mostly soothed by his presence. 

He closed the gap without words. The kiss had a purpose. His tongue had time to memorize her mouth in a long sweet agonizingly tender kiss. It steadily grew heated and before she could stop herself, she moaned longingly into his mouth. He answered back by whispering her name.__

__She guided him to her bedroom without a stumble or misstep. 

Months later she held everything of appeal. He loved her body and more importantly how she used it. She had a beauty that he was blatantly attracted to because he wasn't afraid to be caught staring. At very close inspection her lip had a tiny scar, her eyes had a dark rim outlining her iris, and her fingers had the most beautiful prints he ever saw. In return she found more about Gruesome Grissom than she thought possible and fell more in love with Gil Grissom. 

_"You see,"_ he was once saying sprawled across his bed next to her nine months later, _"we accent each other as partials and beautifully merge as a completed whole. It's natural scientific logic."_

She could not contribute how he made her feel to natural law, so she blamed it on being in love. But that's what they were: symmetric. Now complete. Now four years later. He couldn't live without her. She couldn't bear to lose him. ~~~~~ 

The hazy past drifted away when she lightly kissed his index finger that just made a trail from her jawbone to her lips. 

"You're awake." He said stricken with mild shock. 

She opened her eyes with a big Cheshire cat grin. "I felt you staring at me." 

"Sorry." He said watching his finger run down her neck before dropping to the sheeted bed. 

She reached for his left hand to lace it with her right. "What were you thinking about?" 

"Us." 

She brightened up fully awake. "And?" 

"And...nothing. Just us." He said cryptically still dazed by the memory imprint. 

"You were thinking about when I kissed you and we made love." 

He smiled. "You're scary when you do that." 

"Read your mind or have actual cognitive thoughts right after waking up?" 

"Both." He answered causing her to giggle. 

"How was work?" She asked after settling herself against him. 

"Good. No new cases but some new breaks in those from the board. I read an article about mating rituals in insects, specifically beetles, that I found very interesting." 

"You found something you didn't know about a beetle?" She was surprised. 

"No, I found something that still fascinates me to this very day." He corrected. 

"Which is?" 

"That mating rituals or courtship rituals are beautiful and cross every species barrier. For example once the rare Australian Clay Beetle finds a mate..." 

She interrupted. "If we were to relate ourselves to the mating rituals of insects, and I know you probably have, our species would be extinct because you took so long to 'court' me." 

He let out a hearty laugh. "Never thought of it that way." 

"That was the best day of my life by the way." She said when she met his eyes. "The day I decided to kiss you and accept the fact that I couldn't walk away." 

"You were ready to leave?" He was solemn now. Almost sad. 

"No. I was ready to stay." 

He held onto her eyes for the longest of moments that always made her heart skip a few beats. "Happy first anniversary, Sara." 

She squeezed his hand causing the gold band around his ring finger to dig into her skin. By first glance they were simple gold wedding bands, but a closer look revealed tiny leaves on a vine etched around her band and in a delicate scripture on the inside of his read: _'__Give all to love; obey thy heart__'_, which was a favorite quote by Emerson. 

"I love you too, Gil Grissom." She whispered before their lips met. 

_end 


End file.
